


Ramblings of a lunatic

by Sphinxquartz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Getting Back Together, Hurt Remus Lupin, M/M, Past Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Protective Remus Lupin, Protective Sirius Black, Sad Sirius Black, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sphinxquartz/pseuds/Sphinxquartz
Summary: Sirius Black got imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit. 12 long years in Azkaban. Losing not only James and Lily but his lover; Remus Lupin. And now after these years of solitude, he’s finally free. Well as free as one can be after being captive with happiness depriving monsters. Being on the run is hard enough, how is he going to cope when he battles emotions he hasn’t felt in a decade. Sirius doesn’t know what to think, he’s on his own, wanted by the ministry and better yet still in love."You can come in, you stupid old dog"
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Ramblings of a lunatic

**Author's Note:**

> I was hoping to get this into one chapter but it turns out, it's much longer then expected. Probably not be anymore then 5 but definitely have 2. I'm not sure yet. 
> 
> There will be talk of death and nightmares, generally quite sad things but hopefully there will be a happy ending. Be careful while reading if it does make you uncomfortable, there isn't much mostly implied but you can never be too sure.

Sirius was locked in. Both the cell and his mind. Like an animal destined to have no light, no happiness, no freedom. Stuck in a war between himself. A yell that echoes in his brain, rattles through and shocks him to the core. His instinct was to rebel. To get attention. To get something put right. But his guilt rushed in. Took over and pushed him down. The pain overwhelmed Sirius and kept him up with no rest. If it wasn’t for him, this would never be.

He didn’t think he’d still remember that night. Thought it would be lost and wrong like all the others. But no, it was still clear as day, right like it was yesterday. The lifeless bodies, the screaming child, the caved in roof. His legs running through the back streets. His manic laughter as he watched the street blew up. The feeling of being manhandled down. The knowing that he’s lost everything. The last remains of what was.

He was broken and he knew that. He was a cracked mirror, a thousand pieces to hard to find. He couldn’t be fixed. No matter how hard he tried to be normal. It just wasn’t capable. He was gone and he knew that he would never be the same. He hoped he could still be the old Sirius, he hoped he could be the old Marauder but whenever he tried to be that old him, the memories got contorted into vile forms. Thrashing and crashing through the days, breaking what little of happiness he had, leaving the wrong memory in its place. A horrible twisted version of himself. He was trapped in a cell with dementors sucking out all the good, leaving him with all the bad; nightmares and demons and terror. And he deserved it all. Everything he was given was meant to be and he couldn’t deny it.

He had to just sit and take it.

Days passed in a blur. The odd meal slipped through the bars, not nearly enough to fill him up. Years could have gone by and Sirius wouldn’t have known. Things were mashed in one. Even the memories that hadn’t been sucked out were combined together as if to make something out of it that wasn’t any less painful. But somehow Sirius hadn’t gone completely mental. He thought it was about time that he would be like the other prisoners. But he still sat sane as ever, well as sane as he could be. With fruitless laugh always about to pop before being subdued by the suffocating mass that gathered.

The time in which he had the chance to remember and relive his old life was always short, nothing made sense as it was and he was so beaten down that it exhausted him just thinking about it. When he could, Sirius would make up stories. Of how he and James would run through fields, a kite in hand and smiles on innocent faces. Of how he and Remus would lay outside on the damp grass, staring up at the stars and listening to the wind whistle. Of how he and Regulus would sneak around the house, hiding in the crevasses and taking a peek in the drawing room where their elders liked to linger. Sirius couldn’t tell you if those were real, they might have been once time or another. But now he’d broken that life, paying the price of loss and stolen love.

After one restless attempt to sleep, footsteps could be heard down the corridor. Sirius held his head up and waited to see who it might be. He hoped it would _him_ though he knew it couldn’t be. Still the hope was always there, waiting for it to be true.

The person, whoever it was, came closer apparent by their voice growing louder. It sounded oddly familiar. Sirius could now see the them. A man of short stature, grey hair, black robes and a black bowler hat, even a cane rested on his left forearm. Cornelius Fudge. Sirius recognized the man from the papers during the last few months of the war. He could make out he was holding the Daily Prophet. Why on earth was he here?

“Black, I presume you weren’t expecting me. If you don’t know I’m Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.”

Sirius stared at Fudge, cocking his head to the side. He said nothing in return and waited for the man to continue.

“How are you doing?”

Sirius couldn’t help but laugh a little. Was that really the question? Honestly, how thick is this man?

“Oh, just spiffing.” He replied, getting an uneasy smile from Fudge. “Are you finished with that paper? I’ve missed doing the cross words.”

Fudge spluttered out a yes and slid the paper through the thin gap at the bottom on the bars.

“Did you want anything Fudge?” Sirius asked, looking the man in the eyes obviously making him uncomfortable.

“Oh, nothing really Black. Just thought I should have a check on this place.” Fudge said, shifting from one foot to the other. Sweat sat on his forehead and he whipped with a handkerchief, “well it looks like everything is in order. I’ll be on my way now.”

“Have a nice day Fudge.” Sirius called, waving his hand as he watched the man walk away.

Sirius couldn’t help but laugh. He laughed loudly. A real belly laugh. It brought tears to his eyes and an ache to his stomach. He didn’t even know what was so funny. If he had to guess, it was the madness beginning to brew. He knew it would come before long. Sirius couldn’t understand what was going on with his head, he didn’t understand why he felt so free yet locked up all at once. It was this mixture of emotions and feelings that made him stay alive. The guilt, the pain, the power and strength still within. The urge for revenge, the urge to be punished. It hurt to know all this; what he’d done or not done, the words he’s said, the arguments he’s started. All he wanted to do was forget but all he could do was remember.

His laughter dyed down. He sank back into a crouch and stared blindly at the paper in front of him. July 31st 1993\. 12 years. It had been 12 years.

Sirius managed to get himself to look elsewhere on the paper. The stories written meant nothing to him. It was all blabbering on about nonsense; a few about Dumbledore, a few about Hogwarts, a few about the Ministry. Nothing mattered to him. The only thing that made his heart thumb and head throb was a ginger Weasley boy holding a very familiar rat. A rat missing a toe. A rat with grey patchy skin. A rat that ruined everything.

This awakened something buried deep in Sirius. Hatred ripped through him like he was made of paper and climbed to the surface. Sirius puffed out air of frustration and shoved the hate aside. The image stared mockingly back at him as if to stay ‘look at me now and then look at what you’ve become’.

With another glance he teared the paper into shreds. Sirius couldn’t keep looking, it made him sick. More so than the food he’d be getting soon and that was saying something.

Sirius knew he couldn’t stay locked away. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He needed to avenge their deaths. He needed to get out of this utter dump.

Still sitting in the slightly uncomfortable and slightly leg numbing crouch, he conjured up a plan to escape. Sirius’s cogs turned faster then they have to a long time, brain storming idea after idea. He didn’t have his wand so that was ruled out of any plan of action but what he did have that the Ministry were clueless about was the fact he was an animagus.

Sirius knew he couldn’t wait long. He knew he couldn’t just sit locked away while that rat was still living out there. With none other then the Weasley family. It disgusted him at how low the rat went, living with a good family when he himself was evil. It frightened him at how the rat could have been living so close in the wizarding world, presumably staying at Hogwarts with the boy, which meant that he could get close to Harry. Sirius feared the worse for Harry. His own life had been ruined and turned upside down because of the rat. But despite this, Sirius knew that he would be the one to save him.

Because that’s what godfathers do, right?

It seemed like hours before the sound of food being passed through bars ended up at Sirius’s ears. He had moved closer to the barrier, hidden by the dark shadows that loomed over all the cells. He held his breath as his own bars magic restrains were lowered and before he could even blink, he turned into Padfoot with ease he didn’t think he had, and slipped through undetected.

Sirius didn’t know what to think. Was it joy? Fear? Excitement? Determination? He couldn’t pin point anything at this moment. All he needed to do was to get out and far away from this prison as he could. Without being caught that was.

He hadn’t seen the maze-like corridors since that frightful night now apparent to be 12 years back. Even then, he didn’t take in what it was like. For one he didn’t care. Why would he? He wanted rid of the god-awful memories of being locked away, stuck with his own thought tormenting him and the dementors that seemed to darken everything they went past; sucking out all the joy that even appeared for a second, ridding it with the ugly and unwanted. Why would anyone want to pay attention to that? A mad man maybe. But Sirius knew that he wasn’t one. He knew that he had stayed sane. And maybe, just maybe this was his new fate.

To bring everything to a new order.

*

Sirius as padfoot, hid under a thick cover that was tied to a boat that looked like it had been sitting on the rocks, rotting through the years. He waited quietly as 2 grumbly men got in themselves and tapped the boat for it to start going across the sea.

The sounds of the waves hitting the side of the boat and the constant rocking to and fro, made Sirius’s stomach churn and flip. It seemed like ages before they hit dry land and as carefully as he could, he once again slipped past unknowingly and trotted along; pass caves and sand dunes and to the start of a cobbled road winding through the country side.

The outside world was more overwhelming than Sirius first expected. It was like seeing everything all over again, picking up the lost remains of his past and struggling to fit them back into place. Everything was so wild and merciless. Once again trapping him back into the dark that he had once tried to fight his way out off when he was first chucked away, when he was first riled up into fits of anger and tidal waves of sadness and pits of emptiness. It all came back to him to sharp unrecognizable fragments. Flying too fast past him that he could latch on and ride with them. He was once again stuck in a sense of fear, with his senses being even more heightened and exposed.

Though, of course, there was a solution to this.

Being Padfoot provided great advantages. He was a dog, quick paced and steady with matted fur and ribs jutting out, tongue lolloping to the side and eyes searching for any kind of clue as to where he might be. His ears picked up voices of a near by town, cars rumbling and whistles blowing. It also meant that he couldn't think and feel to the amount his human mind did. As padfoot, Sirius didn't have to worry about how things were going on, he didn't have to think at all. Everything was put in simple words and simple explanation and simple was good. Simple meant that a war didn't break out every 5 minutes. It meant that Sirius could finally relax and forget. It was a bliss that he craved. 

Sirius padded along and came across a gap in the bushes and squeezed himself under. A lamppost above him flickered an orange luminescent glow and the street was desolate yet the noises continued to sound. Sirius followed the scent of cigarette smoke and alcohol. His stomach whined and gurgled with the thought of food and he set out to find something good to fill him up.

He wandered around aimlessly, sniffing the air with his nose rummaging in bins and under benches. He found scraps and dropped food, even a puddle of spilled beer which lightened his head, pulling him into a daze and stumble. The town was full of life; music boomed out of the clubs, people ran wild with drinks in hand, others walked past chatting happily. It was a surprise to see just how different people’s lives are. Sirius had always taken an interest in the muggle world, first out of spite then because he generally was really interested by how they worked without the use of magic. Unfortunately, with the war going on and the order busy with missions, he rarely had anytime to visit the muggle cities and shops, only able to gaze in awe.

Sirius sat next to an unoccupied bench. Just watching the coming and goings of the late-night ravers and the drunken men making a fool of themselves.

One man imparticular caught his eye.

He was tall. Lanky and slim. He wore jeans with ripped holes at the knees, a band t-shirt and a black coat, adding to this was his boots. Thick and clunky, spikes going up the back and a skull sewn into the side with white string. Sirius stared and imagined his own wearing them. He thought he would look amazing in such outfit and smiled to himself.

The man caught his doggy stare. His eyes blue and hair blonde. Lips turned up into a smile and freckles over his nose and cheeks. He looked happy just standing outside the bar. Content with how he’s ended up.

The man began to walk towards him. When he got close enough Sirius could smell fresh cologne sprayed rather generously, he wondered how the man wasn’t chocking on his own scent.

“Hey there buddy. Where’s your owner then?”

His voice was soft and angelic, the complete opposite to what Sirius expected. Though his hands were rough as he ran them through his fur. Sirius tilted his head towards the man as he scratched behind his ears. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be touch. Forgotten how it relaxed him. Forgotten who it once was to do this. Remus, it seemed, new exactly what he liked regardless of in human or padfoot form. And this man. He new what to do, the right place to make his tail wag and spine all tingly.

“You like that, huh? I gotta get a picture of you, looks like the one James used to have.”

At this, Sirius whipped his head up. He knew it could not be. James was gone. But this man knew a James. A James, who too, had a dog like him. He wanted to desperately to ask the man who this James was, to ask whether or not it was his James. But he stayed as padfoot and stared longingly at the man who rummaged through his coat pockets. He couldn’t stay here and be pictured to show this James, he couldn’t stay here and be petted the way Remus did all those years ago. While the man was looking elsewhere, Sirius took one last look and bounded out of sight.

If dogs could cry, Sirius would be in hysterics. If dogs could talk, Sirius would be blabbering on.

He continued straight out of the town, back into the country side and through the night. The half-moon watched him as he trudged along, the sun keeping an eye on him in the day. Though he did not notice, he felt the tight shift around his body, he felt safe yet open, he felt instructed to do one thing and one thing only. The world is a confusing place and Sirius just has to take his calls to settle the fire sparking.

*

It was a non-stop journey. 2 days it took. Walking through the different towns and cities. Hiding in the shadows and watching the muggles live their ordinary lives, oblivious to the man slinking in and out of the streets. He was tired. He was aching. He was starving.

Sirius hated how his brain managed to conjure up the odd memory from seeing the muggles just do what they always do. It was stupid he thought. Wrong to want such things, wrong to need such things. He hated himself for everything that has come his way but this is breaking him down. It's pulling at the last threads, picking away at the ends of the sting. All that's left is fading, and he hates himself for wanting more.

With exhaustion, Sirius slumps in a back alley behind a large bin. It's a busy street filled with food shops, charity shops, the odd café and pub. People were walking with neat and tidy suits, satchels in hands or slung over shoulders. They walked briskly, not letting their eyes wander, mouths pitched in a straight line. It was a repeating pattern, like someone had made duplicates of the first man and set them free. 

Sirius grew bored watching the same old people wearing the same old clothes going in the same old direction and huffed in annoyance. Getting to Harry was much harder than he thought. He didn't even know how far it was or if he was going in the right direction but his gut told him he was on route and he couldn't deny, his gut instinct was usually always right.

And to add to that, Sirius realizing that he hadn't actually thought much of Harry with his spare time. To be fair, he didn't want to. That in itself scared him. The boy who lived they called him. Horrible circumstances lead to him being famous among wizards and witches. Sirius didn't dare think about how he was coping. He hoped Harry was safe, cared for, loved and in warmth. He hoped that once he was proven to be the innocent man he is, then maybe he can be with Harry again. 

Sirius continued to stare out from his hiding spot blindly. Until, someone rather familiar walked past, this time in the other direction.

Sirius could never forget the tawny hair that curled around his ears and over his forehead, the satchel bag breaking at the seams, the unpolished leather boots bought second hand, the hunch as he walked, the eyes drawn away always looking down. Sirius could never forget that face. Remus Lupin was only 20 meters away. Though that distance grew larger as he walked on. And now Sirius began to follow him. Careful not to make a sound.

He didn’t know what he was feeling about seeing Remus. He definitely looked different; older and more worn out. It hurt to look at him knowing he caused it. But even then, he couldn’t make his eyes move. He kept staring, kept yearning, kept loving. 

Remus continued to walk out of the busy highstreets and past the overly large houses and posh built flats, he turned down a dusty alleyway, then round a corner and through a park with broken slides and swings twisted up to the top bars. The houses began to get smaller, the paths got dirtier and the people less sophisticated. Sirius kept his distance and watched as Remus stopped in front of a tumbledown, semi-derelict cottage. The brick walls were painted white, now having moss and dirt climbing up alongside vines that hugged the house close. The front garden was a mess of weeds and over-grown bushes. The thatched roof looks in good need of repair, bits sticking out and what looked like a hole in the top left-hand corner. The curtains were closed and it seemed like no one lived there. Like it had been left for scraps. It was a mess.

Sirius settled himself down by a tree and shrubs, hiding behind leaves and small red berries. He watched through the branches and waited for anything to happen. He longed to be able to go up to Remus and just give him a hug, make him some tea and wrap a soft blanket around his shoulders as he read his books. He longed to be able to kiss him good morning and good night, hold his hand and take him out to his favourite restaurants. Sirius couldn’t begin to fathom how Remus handled 12 years alone; Sirius hoped he wasn’t alone but it looks like that’s what had happened. He must think the worst of him, must hate me. He must have grieved alone; he must have been hurting. He must have wanted someone to be close to him, someone that would understand.

Sirius spent the whole day watching the cottage. The least he could do is make sure Remus was okay, he’s certain he’s not just like how he himself isn’t okay but it’s the best he can do in the meantime. Remus doesn’t leave the at all. Sirius wonders if he has a job -it could just be his day off. But when the sun starts to set and the lamps flicker on, Remus goes out.

He leaves in the same clothes, with the same satchel, with the same solemn look. Sirius doesn’t want to be intrusive yet he follows him again. He takes the same route; along the path, back through the park, round the corner, down the alleyway and through the street with large houses and posh built flats. They pass the back alley where he first noticed Remus and they continue down until they come to a stop outside a school.

Sirius blinks curiously up at the building. Next to the open double doors is a sign, the words ‘night class’ is written. Now this does grab Sirius’s attention. Remus walks in and greets a woman with miss matching socks, they turn to enter the second door on their right and disappear.

Sirius doesn’t wait for his brain to stop him before he pads through. He goes through the open double doors and past the room in which Remus and that woman walked in. Though he did turn his head to look through the bottom glass panel to see a bunch of adults sitting at tables while writing notes. He continued down the hall until he found a room with paper and a large white box thing that spurted out sheets of paper with words and still pictures on them.

Without a second thought, Sirius turned back to himself.

His joints cracked and his back spasmed. Goodness he thought, he really shouldn’t be padfoot for that long.

He glanced around the room. He had decided that it would be best of him to write Remus a letter explaining what happened -he certainly didn’t like the idea of Remus hating him, it actually made him quite uneasy. He didn’t have any muggle money and he couldn’t just go wandering in Gringotts asking for an exchange, so he had to make do with stealing.

It was actually pretty easy, they even had enveloped tucked away in a draw and the pens Lily used to go on about. His stomach clenched at the thought of them like it always did. He pushed it down and brushed of the feeling in hopes to make it any easier.

Sirius left as padfoot, the paper and pen safely in the pocket of his ragged uniform. He didn’t wait for Remus, instead taking the route back to the tree and shrubs, still with the intention to keep an eye on him. He transformed back and settled himself in the crouch. Writing on the uneven grassy ground proved to be much more difficult then first seemed. His handwriting was not loopy and elegant as it once was. Instead forgetting to cross his t’s and dot his i’s, smudging words so they were an unreadable black so he had to make do with squeezing the right word above, generally rushing and making chicken scratch. He huffed in annoyance but knew he had to make do. Sirius folded and sealed the letter, writing Moony on the front.

Sirius checked that the coast was clear and scrabbled forward, posting the letter through the slit in the door. He checked once again, going back to his hiding spot, curling up as padfoot for the night.

_Dear Moony_ _,_

_I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but please bear with me. I’ve got to tell you the truth._

_First off, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for not trusting you. I’m sorry for being a shit friend. I should have done better, I know that now, I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you. I’m really sorry. And I know sorry isn’t going to magically fix everything but I want you to understand that I don’t hate you, I never have or will, I want you to know that I understand what I’ve done wrong. I get it now and I’m sorry for everything._

_Now onto what happened I guess._

_When James and Lily found out Voldemort was targeting them, Dumbledore told them to go into hiding. At the time they wanted me to be the secret keeper and I was for the start. But then it dawned on me, that’s too obvious. Everyone knows how close I am to James and the death eaters would come to me straight away if they found out Dumbledore's plan. Even then I would have never told them where James and Lily were, I would have rather been tortured to death then have them die. I would never betray my friends. So, I came up with the idea that Peter would be the secret keeper because who expects Peter right? And he was well up for the plan, he seemed really enthusiastic to help out and I was glad that he wanted to be involved. But that’s what lead to their deaths see. Peter was or is the spy. He was the one selling the order out to Voldemort, he was the rat. Pretty fitting isn’t it?_

_And then it was Halloween night. After the argument we had I wanted to blow of some steam and thought why not go check on Peter, make sure he’s alright. But when I got to his flat, he wasn’t there. He was told to stay inside, make sure people don’t see him. It was like he had just got up and left, no sign of a struggle. And then I knew. Or well my gut was telling me. Something bad happened. So, then I made my way to James and Lily’s. It was horrible Moony. I couldn’t stand the site of it. But I still walked in. I heard Harry crying and I was relieved that at least he was alive. I thought we could have raised him you know. Then Hagrid was there, orders from Dumbledore and they wanted to take Harry away. I guess I had the realization that maybe we wouldn’t be able to look after him, that maybe it was best if someone else take care of him. I just gave him away. I wish I didn’t._

_After that I went on the search for Peter and you know the rest. The 12 muggles ended up dead in an explosion and he scarpered off in the gutters as the rat he is._

_That’s the truth whether you choose to believe it or not is the question but I promise you Moony, I didn’t kill them._

_~~Love~~ _ _from Padfoot_

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are welcome, tell me what you think!
> 
> Title from the song 'Ramblings of a lunatic' by Bears in Trees. Links pretty well with the story so go listen to it if you wish.


End file.
